


Rebirth

by Lyra (swanhilde)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Destroy Ending, F/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-11 06:33:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4425083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanhilde/pseuds/Lyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mass Effect and its characters belong to Bioware. </p><p>An epilogue featuring my Colonist, War Hero, Paragon, Lyra Shepard with the destruction ending and romanced Garrus Vakarian. This work features my theories surrounding the ending and Shepard's survival. It's basically self indulgent work but I still hope that some will enjoy it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In this chapter I was going for a sort of near death delirium using sentence fragments and one word descriptions. Please let me know if I was successful in this attempt.

Fire. 

Blood. 

And then...Light.

 

Awake. Gasping, coughing. Eyes open. Light, dim. 

Noise. Screams in the distance. The rythmic pitter-patter of bullets. I try to move...

"Aaah!" My body, wracked with pain. Blood pooling around me. Heart pumping, breathing quickly. I can't feel my legs...

Heart slows. Breathing steadies. It's quieter now; the screams and explosions muffled. The blood around me warm. It no longer burns... Now I can sleep.

 

Darkness. 

 

"Shepard!" 

 

Voices calling....I must meet them. But I'm so tired...I want to... Rest. 

 

"Shepard!" Footsteps. Someone is running. Closer and closer. 

"Oh thank the spirits! I'm here, Shepard," A deep, comforting voice. Familiar. A warm hand in mine. A reassuring squeeze. 

My eyes open, trying to focus. Blue circles swimming in black. Eyes. Turian eyes. 

"G...Garrus?" Voice raspy, struggling for breath. 

"It's alright," The voice says, choking on a sob. "I'm here." 

Something wet falls on my face. A...tear? "Don't worry, Shepard. We're going home." Rising. My body leaving the ground on strong arms. 

 

My eyes are open, taking in the devastation. Fire, death, destruction. Corpses litter the ground. Tears well up in my eyes. Earth is...ravaged. Home is gone. 

But then, I see her. Shining hull, wings, and all. The Normandy. 

"Home."


	2. Chapter 2

I wake to the obnoxious beeping of a heart monitor, its rate increasing as my heart pounds faster. Still drowsy, I slowly open my eyes, temporarily blinded by the bright, fluorescent lights above me. As my eyes adjust, I slowly sit up, wincing at the aches and pains all over my body. 

_Where am I?_ I think to myself, panicking for a moment before I hear the familiar whir of the Normandy's engines beneath the sounds of the medical machinery all around me. Sighing with relief, I fall back on the bed, collapsing into a mountain of pillows propped up beneath me. Now comfortable, I examine my surroundings and recognize the facility I'm in as the Normandy's med bay, judging by the medical equipment and the familiar sight of Dr. Chakwas' paper-strewn desk. A table beside my bed is filled with bouquets of flowers and various "Get Well Soon!" type cards. I smile at the sight of my favourite flowers sitting on the tabletop, bright golden-yellow star lilies from the Citadel. 

An IV cord is attached to the inside of my forearm and I can feel a thick bandage wrapped around my head, making it seem much heavier. I dread to see what other wounds I sustained on Earth but curiosity overwhelms me. Carefully, I pull the scratchy hospital gown over my head, dropping it on the floor beside the bed. For a moment I stop to breathe. I have been badly injured before and it would be reasonable to assume that these ones can't be much worse seeing as I'm still alive. However, I can still feel dread gnawing a hole in my stomach despite the reassurances I give myself. Finally, I bring myself to inspect my body. 

After several minutes spent painfully unwrapping bandages I manage to inspect all of the wounds present on my torso, arms, and head. My body is covered in fading bruises, scratches, and burns but only a few of the injuries that I could see are of prominence, I obviously sustained an injury to my head which most likely resulted in a concussion, more than a few bullet wounds to my arms and torso, and a deep gash reaching from my jaw to my cheekbone. Most of these wounds, however, are nearly healed. Once I have thoroughly inspected each wound, I re-wrap the bandages pull the gown back on, trying my best to ignore my wounded body's protests. 

Considering everything I had experienced back on Earth, I had relatively few and minor injuries. However, I still have my legs to check. I worry that any injuries present on my legs may be far worse as I had spent hours, perhaps even days, trapped under rubble. 

Taking a deep breath to steel my nerves, I rip the blanket off of me and toss it onto the floor. Like the rest of my body, my legs are scratched and bruised but that isn't what catches my attention. My hand flies to my mouth and a muffled sob escapes from my lips as I stare at my right leg in shock. 

The entire lower half of my leg—from the bottom of my knee and below—is gone and replaced by a metal prosthetic, the wires in the joints glowing blue with energy. For a moment I stare in horror at this new leg, my eyes filling with tears. Tentatively, I try to move my new foot and toes. I nearly cry with relief when I discover that I can move my new leg as though it were real. 

Right at that moment, the door opens and Dr. Chakwas enters, staring at a data file in her hand. Her eyes lift up to meet mine and her mouth drops open. Dropping the file, she rushes towards me, flinging her arms about my shoulders. 


	3. Chapter 3

I hiss with pain as she hugs me. "Nice to see you too, Chakwas," I say to her, awkwardly hugging her back, wincing at the pain of doing so. 

"Oh! Sorry!" she cries, loosening her embrace but still not letting me go, this amount of affection is unusual from her. "Thank God, Shepard. You were unconscious for so long we were scared you wouldn't pull through." 

I smile weakly, attempting to reassure her. "Y'know me, Chakwas. It'll take a lot more than that to kill me." 

"Of course. I shouldn't have doubted you, Commander," she replies, pulling away to look me in the eyes. "The great Commander Shepard. Stronger than death itself, they say," she smiles brightly, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening. 

She notices me looking down at my leg. Her smile fading, she squeezes my arm reassuringly, a grim look in her steel-blue eyes. "We...couldn't find it. It was blown off in the explosion when you...destroyed the Crucible. I managed to find you a prosthetic that you will be able to move as though it were your own leg." Dr. Chakwas looks back up at me, her expression concerned. 

I nod solemnly, my eyes following the grooves of the metal. "Will I still be able to fight? Given time to heal that is?" I ask, wiggling the toes of my new foot. 

"Yes. Given time and physical therapy you should be able to do everything you could before and perhaps even more," Chakwas says, moving to take my leg in her hands. I shift on the bed to allow her to do so, my limbs stiff from lack of use. "It will take a while for you to adjust but we're here to help you through it." 

"Thank you, Doctor," I say quietly. Suddenly, I am struck with a realization. "How long have I been unconscious for?" 

"You've been in a coma for almost four months," she replies. "Quite a lot has happened in that time."

"Four months? God, it's like I died all over aga—"

I'm interrupted by a knock on the metal door to the med bay. "Doctor?" A voice asks from the comm on Chakwas' desk, I recognize it as Liara's voice. "I was just wondering how Shepard was doing and I came to read to her again. Are you in there?" 

The doctor grins widely, "Come on in, Liara." 

Liara enters the room, an old book held against her chest which I know to be one of my old favourites: an old classic from Earth titled  _The Hobbit_. It's most likely from the collection—or hoard—of books in my quarters, no surprise Liara found it. In her other hand she clenches a bushel of more of the yellow lilies on the table beside me, likely to replace the ones currently wilting. 

Liara T'soni herself looks exhausted, dark circles underneath her pale blue eyes. Her shoulders slump slightly and her eyebrows are pulled together in a small frown. At the sight of me however, her expression softens and she gapes, shock registering on her face. 

"Hey, Liara—" I'm interrupted as she barrels into me, pulling me into her arms. There was going to be a lot of hugging today it seemed. I wrap my arms around her, smiling into her shoulder. "Been a while, hasn't it?" 

She pulls back to look at me, tears glistening in her eyes. Her expression quickly changes to one of cold fury as she slaps my uninjured cheek. _  
_

"You idiot!" She shouts, grabbing me by the shoulders. I gasp in pain when her fingers dig into the bullet wound on my shoulder, red hot pain shooting through the wound. "By the Goddess, how could you just charge off like that?! We thought you were dead!"

"Liara!" Chakwas exclaims, snatching the asari's arm. She wrenches out of her grasp, but loosens her grip on my shoulders. 

"Don't you ever go throwing your life away again, you hear me?!" She cries, tears flowing steadily down her cheeks now. "We needed you! We—I couldn't..." she trails off, sobbing into my chest bitterly.

I hold her tightly, ignoring the pain it causes me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," I say, tears stinging my own eyes. "I couldn't let you all die with me. I...I had to it on my own so that you would all be safe."

Liara looks up, her face once again that of sorrow. "I know I can speak for all of us when I say that we would have gladly died by your side if it meant victory against the Reapers. And I'm sure at least most of us, if not all, would have died protecting you anyway even if we failed." 

She takes my face in her hands, forcing me to look her in the eyes. "But losing you like that...Why couldn't you have let us help you?"

"I...I don't know, I'm sorry. But I would've done anything to make sure none of you died. You all are the only family I have left and—and I know it seems selfish but—" I break off, unable to finish, my throat clogged with emotion.

She says nothing at first, simply hugging me tighter, but finally after a few moments she whispers, "You've always been such a hero: protecting others, sacrificing every part of yourself for them. I could see that the moment I met you, but you're only one woman and you needed—still need—our help. Please just let us help you. Please."

Holding back a sob, I simply nod in response, embracing her one last time before pulling away. I look over at the doctor who has stepped away from Liara, convinced that she won't do anything more to harm me. Approaching her desk, she presses a button to activate the comm. "Jeff?" 

"Hey, Doc! Is Liara still down there? She was going down to see the Commander." His surprisingly cheerful voice bounces around the room, bringing a smile to my face. 

"Yes, she is still down here," Chakwas replies. "Jeff, can you send the others down here? Shepard is awake." 

For a moment Joker doesn't respond and I hear the sound of a cup crashing to the floor, shattering on contact. A whoop of delight in the background breaks the silence. "We're on our way now," I can almost see him grinning widely up in the cockpit by the joy in his voice. "Rise and shine, Commander." 

Within moments, the crew begins to stumble into the med bay. Ashley, Cortez, and James stagger in first, their eyes welling up with tears, followed by Tali and Traynor who are already sobbing by the time they reach the door. The next few minutes pass in a blur as the crew hug me in turn or some all at once, their tears staining the scratchy cloth of my hospital gown. I find myself beaming as their embraces grow longer, never having felt more loved in my life. Soon, Joker hobbles in, grinning widely, but I can see that his eyes are red and puffy from crying. My heart drops in my chest as I feel guilt consume me. 

"Joker...I—I'm sorry for...for EDI," I choke, ashamed. I look down at my open hands, unable to meet his exhausted and sorrow-filled gaze. I watch as he takes my hands in his, squeezing them gently. 

"It's alright, Commander. I'm just so glad you're okay," he says, his voice breaking. 

I fling my arms around him, squeezing him against me. "Careful, Shepard. Brittle bones guy here. God, you're strong," he hisses. 

"Sorry," I say sheepishly, smiling. A flicker of movement catches my attention and I peer over his shoulder. 

A tall, familiar figure dressed in blue stands in the doorway. I stand abruptly, ignoring my protesting joints and wounds. "G—Garrus!" 

_He's here. Alive. Safe._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter may be cheesy and overdone but I started writing this a long time ago to make myself feel better about the ending and now I'm publishing it since I liked it and want to finish it. I hope that some of you like it regardless.

"Shepard?" He asks in disbelief, taking a step towards me. The relief in his deep, resonating voice tugs at my heart.

By some sudden unknown strength, I move past Joker towards him, stumbling on my new leg. I only manage to take a few steps before my leg gives out on me, shocks shooting through the prosthetic as it struggles to register the pain and connect to my nerves, likely a reaction to moving too quickly and roughly. I swallow a scream of agony as it finally sends the delayed burst of pain. Garrus rushes towards me, catching me in his arms, pressing me against his chest. I ignore the crew surrounding us and the pain, simply glad to be with him again and to know that he's safe. A heavy sob escapes my lips and let the tears flood from my eyelids, too exhausted and relieved to hold back. 

"You're awake! I-I m-missed you so m-much." He sobs, pressing me against him. "S-Shepard, I-l-love you."

Grabbing his fringe, I kiss him hard, my other arm wrapping around his neck. He slips an arm around my waist, gripping my hair with the other. Our faces become slippery with tears and yet we still sustain the kiss, desperate for the other, as though we are both afraid one of us will slip away again.

Garrus pulls away first, gasping for air and choking on his sobs. I pull him closer, holding him to my chest. His sobs grow louder as he cries, gripping my flimsy hospital gown.

I didn't notice James coming up from behind me until he pats my shoulder, gesturing to the door. He mouths: _We'll leave you two alone._

I nod.  _Thank you,_ Imouth back, smiling.

James winks back at me. I watch them leave quietly, each of them giving my uninjured shoulder a reassuring squeeze or pat before leaving. Joker pats my head lightly as he passes and I raise an eyebrow in response. He simply grins and limps away.

By the time they have all left the bay, Garrus's sobs have mostly subsided and he has loosened his grip on my now wet hospital gown from his tears. I grab one of his hands, pulling him with me as I hobble back towards the bed—although I lean heavily on him as I try to avoid stepping on my metal foot. 

I sit down heavily, hissing with pain, and pull him down beside me. For a moment we just sit there, him still clutching my hand and brushing away his tears while I watch him, taking in every detail. He doesn't seem to have been hurt badly since Earth: just a few fading scars and scratches. Nothing to worry about it seems. I still find it hard to tell turian expressions but he seems weary, his shoulders slumped. He gives up trying to brush away his tears and instead stares down at our hands, rubbing my palm with his thumb. I reach out and brush away a tear as it falls down his face, holding his face in my hand.

Finally, I break the silence. "I love you too, Garrus. And-and I'm sorry."

He looks up at me. "For what?"

"For running away on Earth. For making you have to worry about me for months," I look up at the ceiling. "God, I guess I'm sorry for everything. I dragged you into this whole mess years ago back on the Citadel and look how much you've been hurt since then...because of me, " I say, looking back down at our hands.

"I've just screwed up so much and you—the whole crew, too—have had to deal with all of my mistakes," I ramble. "And now the Reapers are gone but so are many others: Mordin, Legion, Thane...EDI. I still think I made the wrong decision back on the Crucible. If I had sacrificed myself EDI would've-"

"Shepard, look at me," Garrus interjects.

Reluctantly, I raise my eyes to meet his. He takes both of my hands in his as he scoots closer to me, resting his forehead against mine. "I have many regrets, some of them from the past few years. But I do not and will never regret letting you drag me onto the Normandy three years ago," Garrus pauses for a moment to take a shaky breath. "You have done so much for all of us that we would gladly give our lives for you, just like some of us already have. Don't you dare underestimate how much you are worth," Tears well up in his eyes again and his voice wavers.

"Garrus, I-"

"No. I'm not finished. You deserve more than you think. You don't always need to be a damn hero and give up everything for others. Let the people who love you help you...Please," he stares me down, forcing back his tears before pulling me close.

His arms envelop me and I slide painfully into his lap. Cradled in his arms I tell him everything: the strange ghost child on the crucible, my fears that I wouldn't be able to save us, destruction, synthesis, and control. I even find myself rambling through choking sobs about Anderson, my long-dead family, the crew, and even him. I feel embarrassed at how freely the words leave my mouth but he just listens carefully, occasionally whispering reassuring things in my ear when my tears overwhelm me. Always there to lean on as I have let him lean on me.

"Thank you for listening," I whisper. "I should've let you talk too but it was nice to let those things out for a change, thank you."

"Just promise that you'll let me help you just like you do for me, okay?" Garrus murmurs against my hair, planting a gentle kiss on the top of my head. "No Shepard without Vakarian, remember? Just what would the mighty Commander Shepard do without Archangel there to shoot all the guys she misses?"

"Well the Archangel sure doesn't have much to hit then," I mutter into his chest, smirking.

"Ouch, Shepard. You're gonna give your boyfriend more scars if you keep that up," he laughs.

Chuckling, I pull him into another kiss. "I promise, Garrus. No Shepard without Vakarian."


	5. Chapter 5

A few days after my awakening Dr. Chakwas declares that I am no longer bedridden. My wounds have mostly healed and now work has started on getting accustomed to my new leg. It's slow going at first; walking around my bed in the med bay, my arms outstretched to keep my balance. Often someone is there to guide me and keep me from falling, generally it's Garrus, he's been constantly fretting over me. But soon, I can walk as if I had never lost my leg and am slowly getting accustomed to running.

During my recovery, the crew brings me up to speed on what has happened since the battle on Earth. The Reapers have been completely obliterated and there has been no sign of survivors. However, the mass relays were greatly damaged and repairs have been slow. It's taking a lot of combined effort to recover from the damage our galaxy has taken. They say even the Batarians are helping, mostly because they need help themselves. Many VIs and AIs were also destroyed in the explosion caused by the Crucible, including EDI. I don't know if I'll ever be able to recover from the guilt of her death...or I suppose, her shut down.

In return, I tell them everything about the Crucible: the ghost boy that had been in my dreams since Earth was first attacked, three impossible choices, Anderson's death, the harvest of everyone on the Citadel. I leave nothing out, no matter how insane it might seem. At this point I can't hide anything more from them, they deserve to know. I almost expect them to stare at me as if I'm crazy but they just listen quietly, they're all confused by what this means. I had hoped that with the Reapers destruction there would be answers but there seems to be only more questions. What did the ghost boy mean by that the Reapers were created to stop war between the synthetics and organics? Why did any of this happen?

Seeing as we can't seem to give each other any explanation to the hell we just went through we collectively decide on one thing: what's more important right now is getting back to the nearest council planet and helping in the restoration efforts. But honestly, the hell we've been through is making it hard to care, at least it's over now. Joker tells me that before I awoke from my coma they had just managed to make contact with Turian forces who gave us the information on what has occurred since the destruction of the Reapers. Since then, we've been trying to return to the closest planet which has been difficult because of the damage done to the mass relays.

As for the crew, they're still shaken to say the least. Physically, everyone's doing well, just a few injuries here and there but nothing serious. But mentally? They try to hide it but I can tell that they're all struggling.

Joker still teases me but in the silence that follows nearly all of our conversations lately I can feel his grief hanging in the air. I try to comfort him when I can but I know that sometimes you just need that silence; I've lost those I love too. He's told me every day that he's grateful that I came back as I am his best friend but I know that he wishes it could have been both of us or even just EDI. I can't blame him for that. But no matter what he's always there and, just like the rest of the crew, has become fiercely protective of their commander.

In each embrace, Tali holds me a little longer than she used to, she fears the loss of any member of her new family. Those precious moments I squeeze her tightly, trying to say that I'm not going anywhere without words. I don't think it needs to be said.

Ashley often comes up to my cabin to share a drink, a wordless apology for the past. We talk about anything, our deepest secrets, our fears, sometimes the strangest of things. I want her to trust me again as much as I trust her. I know that she does but I still worry.

James and I still exercise together but not at the same rigorous pace. When I fall, he picks me up and puts me back on my feet. When I go silent in quiet agony from the memories he claps my shoulder and says, "C'mon Lola, that the best you got?" His smiles no longer quite reach his eyes when I crack a bad joke but he still treats me basically the same as before, not as if I'm fragile and broken but simply just as if I'm a bit bent out of shape. Besides, he knows I could still kick his ass.

Liara's penetrating blue eyes follow me wherever I go, her brow furrowed in concern. I try to reassure her whenever I wince in pain or when my eyes go glassy as I recall the past but I know that she still worries regardless. She looks much older than she used to, as if her age in Asari terms now equals her age in Human terms. But she understands how I feel and when everything just feels like it's too much she offers to share the burden, insisting that I bear it alone too often. I couldn't be more grateful.

Cortez and Traynor tend to fuss over me endlessly, insisting that I rest whenever I seem uncomfortable in the slightest and sometimes getting worried about me over the smallest of things. Steve is much more quiet and calm than Samantha but he has a stern look when I push myself too hard that makes me feel like a child caught eating the cookie dough. Samantha feels that she doesn't do enough to help despite my reassurances, I just hope she knows that she doesn't have to do all that she does for me. It makes me laugh and while it can be frustrating I do appreciate their concern, it's always nice to feel cared about. 

Garrus is much more passionate and less reserved than he used to be in terms of our relationship, to which I am not used to. He's now openly affectionate with me on the Normandy, often stealing me away for a kiss or holding me in front of the rest of the crew. He stays in my cabin every night, holding me in his arms for hours as we drift in and out of sleep, the nightmares keeping us awake for hours at a time. 

Ah, the nightmares... 

They're not like before at least; the ghostly visage of the Catalyst haunting me, burning alive before my eyes; the voices of the dead reverberating within my skull, making me want to scream and tear at my scalp; and my own face, blank, empty... _gone._

No...they're worse or, I should say, _it's_ worse. 

Every night; the same. I wake—or at least I think I do—in the med bay just as I did before when I awoke from my coma. For a moment, everything is quiet, calm setting in as the engine's whir fills my ears. I want to stand and see the crew, my friends, my  _family._ My heart is light with happiness and I feel a sudden strength in my limbs as I throw off the blanket, jump off of the bed and stride briskly towards the door leading to the rest of the Normandy. 

Some nights I only make it a couple steps away from the bed. On the worst nights my dream self makes almost all the way to door and actually opens it, the crew watching me in terror as I fall to the ground on bloody stumps for legs. I watch as my arms are consumed like the shattering of a jigsaw puzzle, screaming as blood squirts from the open wounds. The floor pools with my blood and I lie there helpless, trying to move. I cry out for help but in every nightmare it proves to be in vain.

I look around to see that I'm back in London, wearing my destroyed armor. My blood dries upon the charred earth as I watch the crew be killed and tortured before me, unable to help them. Their attackers are nothing but dark silhouettes, their only feature a smiling maw with razor sharp fangs. As the last of the crew falls to the ground—Garrus, his throat slit by a shadowy hand—they change before my eyes. My family dies to see their murderers turn into the spitting image of myself. I wake panting and screaming. 

After several nights of this, Garrus insists that I see a professional to which I agree, albeit reluctantly. I've been sent to psychiatrists, psychologists, and counselors numerous times but they never seem to be able to help me or perhaps I guard my feelings and mind too closely. I will try though, for him at the very least. Perhaps this will be one of the first steps I must take to finding some semblance of peace for the first time in years. 

One night, still shaking from my nightmare, I hear him whisper gently in my ear but his voice sounds different, as though it weren't just his. "Shepard...Lyra. You have been changed by war and death. Your family, your friends, all have suffered...but perhaps not to the extent that you have." 

I lay completely still, betrayed only by the slight tremor in my hands; a permanent reminder of the rifle that was once clenched in bloodied hands. 

"I don't know what to do now, where to go." 

"Don't do anything except live with who you've become, the people you've changed, the world you've changed." The voice changes and suddenly it's only his again. "Heal, Shepard. Or, at the very least, try. I will be here for you till the end." 

And for now, it's enough. 


End file.
